As we meet
by Deception inc
Summary: Every year,they would meet in the same bar, and spend a night in comfortable companionship. A this age Halloween fic and one shot, loosly connected to 'Bridge of London.'


**As we meet**

**31.10.2007**

The bartender had seen those two men many times before. They would walk in on every Halloween eve at about sundown, order the same drinks and sit at the same table in the corner and talk. The funny thing was, though, that once they left, and they always left together, the bartender couldn't for his life describe what they looked like. And he was one to remember faces. One of the men leaned comfortably against the back of his chair, sipping on the drink he'd ordered (low alcoholic, the bartender remembered) while watching cars drive by on the darkened street outside the window. This man was young. By looks he could barely have passed the bar's age limit. His identification told a different story though. The other man was about the same age, though he seemed younger by one or two years. He was leaning forward with his elbows against the polished table surface. He held his drink (this one also low alcoholic) in both hands in front of his face, his intent look sweeping over the people in the bar. These two. They were always watching. Sometimes it felt like nothing could escape the gaze of these two men. The one leaning back began to speak again, but sadly the bartender was too far away and the pub was too noisy for him to overhear.

"All Hallows eve. The joyous day when the spirits of the dead return to visit their families, who have left lanterns outside on the doorstep in order to guide their ancestors home. When a tray of food and drink is left at the side of a grave as an offering to the dead. At least that is what it used to be. Now they leave only candles on the graves, and children dress up and run around from house to house shouting 'trick or treat.' People don't believe in old customs anymore." The man sighed and sipped on his drink. So many that he knew would walk around this year, disappointed in what the world had become. The younger looking man smiled at him with a mischievous glint and lowered his drink to the table.

"Are you being sentimental, my friend?" he wondered, humour dancing in his voice. His companion glanced away from the window long enough to see the smirk and snorted. He understood the joke as it was very seldom that anyone called him sentimental. It didn't fit his image, so to say. A group of children dressed up as all sorts of horrors ran by outside the window. Both men followed them with their eyes.

"But they are happy," the younger said. "The children, I mean." The other man nodded, but left the statement unanswered. A long comfortable silence followed. Both men sat sipping on their respective drinks.

"Are you happy," the seemingly younger one asked suddenly. The other man closed his eyes in amusement and chuckled.

"You ask me that every year," he responded. The other frowned slightly as he did not receive a direct answer.

"Are you happy," he asked again.

"I am," was his answer. "I am as happy now as always before. Not once have I questioned my decisions." He was sincere. While thinking about what he'd achieved and the people he'd met, how could he not be happy? "Are you?"

"As happy now as always before," the younger echoed. The two men locked eyes and smiled as if sharing some secret joke no one else could understand. A couple of teens stumbled past the pub, laughing and talking loudly. They were all dressed up and passed some bottles between each other. The man leaning back comfortably 'tsked' good-naturedly to which the other man raised a bemused eyebrow.

"They're under aged," the seemingly older male explained. Now it was the other's turn to laugh. Neither one really cared about the drinking law nor who decided to break it. And they both knew it. The world was filled with so many little things that weren't worth their attention, but it was always fun to joke about them. "Humans should learn to enjoy the simple side of life," the man continued, swirling his drink in the glass. "I know so many who die and then wish they'd sat down on the park bench or spent an afternoon in a café etc. etc." His voice died away as he sank into his own thoughts. His companion agreed in silence, knowing not to disturb the other at that very moment. Once a safe amount of minutes had passed in silence, the younger appearing male spoke up.

"Very few humans realize how close happiness truly is," he said softly. "Unless they see what we know." The look he received was long and contemplating. The youngling simply smiled back, as if to show that there was no hidden meaning in what he just stated. He understood what his partner suspected and did not want to be misread so, since they had agreed years ago never to bring up their individual believes. Respect was two sided, and the matter did not have anything to do with these nights anyway. Soon enough the other sighed and simply nodded. Humans were ignorant. The two men knew it better than anyone. And that said without exaggerating.

"Cultures have mixed together so deeply that no one remembers what tradition came from which land. That, I don't really mind," the apparently older man said. "But the respect is dead. All Hallows eve has become merchandising. Just like everything else"

"Oh dear... Back to that subject? You really are sore about it, aren't you?" the youngling laughed. The other responded with a lopsided grin.

"You should know," he stated, still smiling. The younger looking nodded. Yes, he did know. "Oh, well. It doesn't really matter," the man continued. "It was just a lot more fun in the old days. Now the only ones having any fun are the poltergeists." He took a deep drink from his glass, looking directly at his friend. By the gleam in the other eyes, he could tell what the other was going to say. He wasn't disappointed.

"You could have as fun as they if you wanted to." The outwardly younger man had a wide smile that made it easy to read what he was implying, and the man still leaning back sniggered.

"Throwing objects down from shelves and knocking in walls and staircases isn't really my style," he laughed. "I've got a reputation to keep up after all." Both men laughed quietly with good humour. The one leaning back turned to face the window once more with a content look on him. The other, still leaning against the table, took this time to regard his companion. The man across from him truly left his mark on people, both in good and in bad. And the people, if having dealt with the real one (and not one of the low rank), did not ever wish to forget. In fact, those people hid the memories away deep in some dark corner in their hearts. Anyone he came across would instantly fall in love with him, for that is what he's like. None other of those the youngling knew had such an influence.

On impulse the supposedly younger man stood up and leaned over the table, attempting to place a friendly kiss on the others cheek. The other, alerted by the unexpected movement, turned his head slightly to better see what his companion was doing, and the kiss fell on the corner of his lips in stead. Neither man seemed to mind as neither expression so much as wavered.

"But our yearly meetings shall always stay the same," the youngling said and sat back down, with his elbows leaning against the polished table surface and lifting his drink with both hands in front of his face. The other man, leaning against the back of his chair while sipping his drink, agreed to the statement, knowing that for two as ancient as them it was best for some things to never change. For hours, neither moving from their position, the two sat and spoke about All Hallows eve. What it once was, what it is today, and what it could some day be.

Near closing time the two men rose. The one appearing to be older left a generous tip to the bartender, like he did every year, before joining his friend, who now stood outside watching the clouded sky. The night was cold but neither man seemed bothered by it in the slightest. In fact, both of them opted to leave their jackets open, exposing themselves to the chill air. At least the seemingly younger one had the thoughtfulness to wear a scarf, for appearance sake. The older looking man took one deep breath of the fresh night air before turning to walk down the street.

"I'll see you again next year, Metatron," he called over his shoulder. The younger looking one watched as his breath formed white veils in the air.

"Yes. Farewell, Lucifer," he answered before walking down the road in the opposite direction.


End file.
